


Mon Général/My Marquis

by HunterByDayWhovianByNight



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton- Miranda, Revolutionary War RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Declarations Of Love, Depression, Historic descriptions, Historical Accuracy, Internalized Homophobia, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Nostalgia, Open Relationships, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Porn With Plot, Remembrance, Revolutionary War, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterByDayWhovianByNight/pseuds/HunterByDayWhovianByNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the moment of our separation, upon the road as I travelled, and every hour since, I have felt all that love, respect and attachment for you, with which length of years, close connexion, and your merits have inspired me. I often asked myself, as our carriages separated, whether that was the last sight I ever should have of you?" - Washington to Lafayette, 1784</p><p>The timeline of their love, their timeless affection for each other, was so painstakingly crafted by the pair that it was such a shame that the world was not ready to see it, to understand its depth and power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The War: June 1777-October 1781

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that since I started this fic before I got into Hamilton it has the historical descriptions of the characters! (They were babes, by the way.)
> 
> ~Hunter

_ June 1777 _

The cold wind nipped at the Marquis’ cheeks, turning them bright pink in colour. He brought his arms tighter across his chest to conserve heat, but the wind was quite heavy today and he couldn't escape the chill anywhere on the boat. All around him, the vast, blue Atlantic lapped at the boat’s’ sides, occasionally splashing up on deck. The sky above was cloudy, but the clouds were too light and thin to be rain clouds. They cast a demure gray light on the other crews’ faces and blocked the harshly shining sun from his face. 

The Marquis sat down on a bench on the deck, leaning against one of the smaller masts of the ship. As he sat, he wondered about America, the infant country he was willing to defend and protect. How could a group of  _ farmers _ possibly rise up against one of the strongest countries in all of Europe? He wasn't sure, but he had hope that they would succeed. For some reason, he just knew they would succeed. 

After about an hour of getting fresh air on the deck, the Marquis returned to his room. He removed his shoes and coat and laid down on the hard wooden bed and looked up at the dark ceiling above him, shadows from the hanging lantern hanging from the ceiling. The smell of old wood and salt flooded his nose with each inhale, his nose getting used to the musky smell after some time. The boat slowly rocked in the waves, lulling him to sleep. 

“Monsieur Lafayette,” the young cabin boy shook him.

The Marquis woke up, his eyes blinking and sleep still heavy on his face. “Yes, what is it? Are we in trouble?” he asked him.

“No, of course not. We’re docking soon, sir,” he explained. “Be sure you have everything ready to go.”

“Thank you, garçon,” Lafayette said as he sat up in his bed and tossed the thin blanket off of him. The boy nodded and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Lafayette stood up and put his shoes on, and shuffled to his trunk to retrieve his coat from it. After he pulled it on, he pushed through the contents of the trunk to make sure he had everything there. Inside, there were a few changes of clothes, some other necessities, a pistol, and a miniature of his wife. Upon looking at the picture of his Adrienne, he felt a slight twinge in his chest. He had left abruptly and without telling her exactly where he was going or what he was doing. He slightly frowned, and put it back inside the trunk, nestled next to a pair of gloves. He shut the trunk and rubbed at his tired eyes. 

Lafayette got up and tidied his bed; not much, just fixing the pillow and rearranging the sheets on the mattress. He left the room, going to the deck to see the boat come into port. When the blinding sun hit his eyes, he raised a hand to see. Coming into view was the city and at least a dozen more boats already tied up to the docks. He smiled; he had been trying for at least half a year to come to America, after facing arrest and low funds. But now, he was here; here to serve and fight these people in need. He briskly walked to the bow of the boat, and gripped the rail, closing his eyes and feeling the morning wind on his face. 

“Lafayette!” 

He whipped around, seeing Baron de Kalb approaching him. “Baron!” he called back, breaking his hold on the rail to greet the other man. The Baron clapped him on the back, and they quickly kissed each other on the cheeks. 

“We’re finally here! After a month on this godforsaken boat, and months of waiting for the right time to leave, we’re finally here!” de Kalb said excitedly.

“We still have to dock, but yes, we are finally here! Oh, I hope they’ll accept us,” Lafayette said hopefully. “I think I’m too young, though. I’m but 19.”

“Who cares? Just stick it to them and tell them that you want to fight. They’re going to want young, passionate blood to fight for revolution against that molly of a king, George! They’ll have you,” de Kalb assured him.

Lafayette tried not to cringe at that word,  _ molly. _ He had felt some feelings for men in the past, but that was before he married Adrienne, a woman he had come to love and care for strongly. Those unnatural feelings had been suppressed for some time now, but when some of the others told him about George Washington, the commander of the continental army and how he was tall, stoic, mature, and powerful, he felt flickers in his chest that he had never felt before. He’d never even met the man, yet there was something about him that Lafayette  _ desired. _ He had even heard that he was an excellent dancer. Lafayette would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent some nights in his cabin thinking about the general and how he would feel pressed up to his chest while they danced a waltz, or did something other than dance.

Lafayette would promptly blush and push those thoughts aside quickly.

Shrugging the thought off, he laughed, and said, “Yes, I suppose they’ll find something to do with me. Maybe I’ll be aide-de-camp.”

“That’s the spirit, son. Keep your chin up,” the older man said as he detached his arm from around Lafayette. The Baron de Kalb walked away, leaving him alone at the front of the boat again. They neared even closer to the docks, and the heady smell of salt and fish began to fill his nostrils. Now that they were closer, Lafayette could see what seemed to be police; they had been mistaken for a British ship. After some explaining, Lafayette was meeting with a man from congress, Major Benjamin Huger, trying to convince him to let him and the Baron join their army.

“You’re… Awfully young. And a noble, a part of the same system we are trying to distance ourselves from,” the Huger said as he wrinkled his nose. “Too many ill-suited French officers are here trying to make a name or cash in on our war, a war that means something to us. How do I know you aren’t the same?”

“I- I want to serve. Please, monsieur. I’ve travelled across the Atlantic and waited for months to come here. My intentions are sincere,” Lafayette said, hopeless in his endeavours to convince the man.

“Why do you want to serve? Why are you so  _ hell-bent _ on joining this army? And wanting to be major general too?” Huger said in disbelief, tossing some papers onto his desk.

“I don’t think it’s fair for your colonies to be suffering under the thumb of that king,” Lafayette replied. Huger gave him a quizzical look, holding his chin in his hand and studying the Frenchman. Lafayette thought for a second.

“I’ll fight. Free of charge. I’m already wealthy enough, I don’t need anymore. I just want to fight,” Lafayette pleaded. Huger gave him an astonished look, gaping at him like a fish.

“Welcome to the Continental Army, Major-General Lafayette,” Huger said as he extended his hand. Lafayette’s heart soared, and shook the other man’s hand firmly.

“I will not disappoint your country, monsieur,” Lafayette assured him.

~~~~~

_ July 1777 _

“What?” 

George Washington looked at the messenger in exasperation and disbelief. He scanned the letter again, trying to find meaning in the words. A teenaged French nobleman would be joining him in battle. He felt uneasy about accepting him, especially since he was a member of the nobility, and that he had limited fighting experience. His eyes fell on the part of the letter that said the Marquis would be fighting for free; that part confused him. Why would a noble want to fight for free? What could possibly be the reasoning behind all this? He would have to ask.

“I was just told to give you this letter, sir. I don’t know exactly what it says, but I was just told it was important,” the messenger said. He shifted uncomfortably as Washington stared him down. 

“It says I’m supposed to meet my new major-general tomorrow at dinner. A man, excuse me,  _ boy, _ by the name of…” George squinted at the piece of paper. “Lafayette. This will be interesting.”

The next night, George sat at a table surrounded by congressmen and various other generals. He glanced at the clock at the other end of the room- the Marquis would be here any time now. His eyes kept going to the door, waiting to see the boy. However, there was nobody coming in and out except for servants.

“Waiting for someone, sir?” a waiter asked as he refilled Washington’s glass of whiskey. 

“Yes. He’s to be my new major-general. He’s very young,” he replied, taking a sip from his glass.

“Well, I don’t know if he’s the one, but some foppish man just walked in, sir,” the waiter said, motioning to the door.

Lafayette walked in the door, and removed his hat, running his hands through his ginger curls, which were swept back into a queue. His hazel eyes scanned the room, and saw Washington, standing and turned to face the door. Hesitantly, he walked towards the table, and once he got to where George was standing he asked shyly, “Monsieur Washington?”

George gazed at the young man. He was of an average height, but had long, skinny legs. His age definitely showed; he had wide, hazel eyes, rosy cheeks, and his cherry-red lips were in a slight pout. Everything about him seemed young, inexperienced. For some reason, he felt a stirring deep in him at seeing the shy Marquis in front of him. Stammering, he said, “Y-yes, I am him.”

The shyness seemed to melt away when Lafayette sighed in relief and said, _“Bonjour, Général,_ I am the Marquis de Lafayette.” He stood on his toes and gripped Washington’s shoulders as he kissed him on either cheek, the older man completely still under the Frenchman’s hold. “Oh, monsieur, I apologize for being so abrupt. ‘Tis but a French greeting custom,” Lafayette giggled as he tried to hide his blush. Inside, he was screaming; he had just embarrassed himself in front of his general and the other men who would be giving him orders.

“I am aware,” Washington said as he sat back down at the table, the other men at the table looked at the two in awe. A servant pulled out Lafayette’s chair and took his hat, and Lafayette slowly (almost like he was trying to be safe, Washington noted) sat down. 

“Welcome to America, Lafayette,” Washington said as he raised his glass of whiskey towards Lafayette, trying not to show the other men how flushed he was at Lafayette’s previous action. A waiter brought Lafayette a glass of whiskey, and once he had it, everyone at the table raised their glasses. They all took a drink, though Lafayette was hesitant. He had drunk mostly wine and champagne his whole life, never whiskey. When he took the smallest of sips, the hard liquor burned his throat, and he coughed loudly. He set down the glass, an embarrassed blush creeping on his neck as he heard the other men laugh at him. He heard Washington let out a small chuckle from beside him. “Bring this man some wine, or something a little less strong,” he said, beckoning to a servant. “Don’t worry, Marquis, you’ll be drinking whiskey straight by the end of this rebellion,” Washington winked at Lafayette.

The congressmen and generals warmed up to Lafayette immediately, the table bonding over stories and jokes. Lafayette, though young, proved to be a very intelligent and well-versed person, probably due to the education he received as a noble. However, Washington wanted to get to know the man better. When some of the others had started to leave, Washington stopped Lafayette. 

“Yes, _M_ _onsieur_ Washington?” Lafayette asked when the older man laid a hand on his forearm. 

“I would enjoy your company as I observe the city’s defenses tonight,” he said. “I would like to get to know you better.”

“Why, I would be most honored, monsieur. I’d like to get to know you better as well,” Lafayette agreed, his limited knowledge of English almost failing him and his heart quickening at the general’s invitation. He felt so flattered that this man of such high esteem would even give him the time of day, but that was not the case. Washington smiled at Lafayette’s response, and the two men stood and retrieved their coats and hats from the servants after they said their goodbyes to the other men.

Washington led Lafayette down the streets, showing him their stores of weapons and munitions. He even pointed out the cannons that some of their men had taken from the British troops skirting the borders of the city. Washington even introduced Lafayette to some of the soldiers on duty as  _ his  _ major-general. “This is my new major-general, the Marquis de Lafayette,” Washington would say. Sometimes he would put a hand on his arm while introducing him, and he'd hear the blood pumping in his ears. 

Their tour was done in about an hour and a half, but Washington and Lafayette became so engrossed in their conversation that they kept walking. 

“I do not know if you approve, but I am a Freemason, Lafayette,” Washington said. 

“As am I. I joined about two years ago back in France,” Lafayette replied. “It's where I became interested in personal liberty and equality.”

Washington was glad to have something in common with the man. “I'm happy to know you share my beliefs. But there's one thing I'm confused about.”

“What, _Monsieur?”_

“Why did you want to fight for free?”

They stopped. “Why did I want to fight for free?” Lafayette said, his voice tinged with amusement. 

“‘Tis but a simple question, Lafayette.”

“In all honesty, I have no need for more money. I'm wealthy enough, and I'm one of the highest-ranking noblemen in my country. All I want to do is help your country win your liberty,” Lafayette answered sweetly. He was wholly genuine, and had this wide-eyed innocence about him that was starting to grow on Washington. Privately, he vowed to protect Lafayette and that innocence. As someone who had seen and experienced so much death and war, he knew that it was not the life for everyone, especially someone so young and full of promise like Lafayette. 

“That's… That's awfully meaningful. I didn't know our cause meant so much to you,” Washington said in astonishment. “This country thanks you for your gratitude.”

There was a moment of silence. _ “I _ thank you for your gratitude.”

Lafayette smiled and brushed away a stray curl that had peaked out of his tricorn. “I'm always happy to help those in need.” Lafayette immediately became fascinated with his shoe buckles, trying not to meet Washington’s eyes as he composed himself. Was the general always like this, so charming and charismatic? He was a man with few words, but it seemed that whenever he used them, Lafayette was swept into another world.

“Well, I would like to help you. Would you want to stay with me? Whenever we set up camp?” Washington with uncertainty, unsure if Lafayette would agree to staying with him in so intimate of a setting only hours after they just met.

“Oh, Washington!” Lafayette said happily. “I'd be honored to stay with you. I- I don't think I've been shown so much gratitude. I… I could kiss you right now!”

Washington stood stock-still as the young nobleman’s previously excited expression turned into one of fear. Lafayette’s heart sank; the French were typically closer and now Washington probably thought he was a sodomite and that he was attracted to him.

“You could only dream it,” Washington said, uneasiness in his voice.

“I hope my words have not changed your mind about me staying with you,” Lafayette said, his hazel eyes falling once again to his shoes. 

“It will be alright. You'll adapt to our American customs in no time,” Washington said, placing a steady hand on Lafayette's shoulder. 

Later that night, they returned to the inn where Washington was staying at. They had retrieved Lafayette's belongings from the place he was previously staying in, and had them brought to Washington's quarters. The room had two beds and a desk; the desk was full of Washington's papers, and one had even fallen on the floor. Washington hurried to pick it up and place it carefully on the desk under an inkpot. 

“You can have the bed on the left,” Washington said as he removed his coat and hat, setting them on the back of his chair. Lafayette tried not to watch. The servants carrying Lafayette’s trunks set them near the other bed and left the room quickly, shutting the wood door behind them. Lafayette, too, took off his hat and coat, lying them on his bed. 

“I’ve had a long day, _monsieur._ I only got to the city this afternoon, and had to go straight to the dinner. Do you mind if I retire early?” Lafayette asked. 

“No, not at all. I just have some letters to go over and respond to before I retire myself,” Washington said approvingly.

“Thank you, _monsieur,”_ Lafayette said as he reached in his trunk and pulled out a sleeping shift. He turned his back to Washington and began to unbutton his vest. He felt uneasy undressing in front of a man he had met only hours ago, but he knew Washington would respect him enough to not watch him. He started hastily unbuttoning his shirt and took it off, quickly reaching for the shift on the bed so he wouldn’t be exposed for too long.

Though Washington was ignoring Lafayette’s current state of undress out of respect, he looked up from his letter just in time to see the porcelain-white skin of his back before pulling on the shift. The toned muscles of his back rippled as he reached for the shift, and Washington licked his lips instinctively. His eyes quickly flitted from Lafayette back to the the letter in his hand, dismissing the sight of Lafayette’s half-naked form in front of him. 

Lafayette took off the rest of his clothes with ease, but his hands were shaking and he could barely keep his breath still as he tried to unbutton his breeches. It took him three tries to get the last button undone before slipping them off. Once they were off, he gathered his clothes from the bed and folded them to fit in his trunk. 

Seeing that Lafayette was finished changing, Washington said to him, “Um, goodnight, Marquis. Sleep well tonight.”

“You too, _monsieur,”_ Lafayette replied, slipping under the blanket. He turned his face into his pillow, and tried to steady his breathing, his mind still reeling from the fact he had just changed in front of Washington,  _ his commanding fucking officer. _ He couldn’t be feeling like this, no. He couldn’t have any kinds of feelings for that kind, powerful man across the room from him. But they were both men, and General Washington couldn't possibly be attracted to men, could he? Lafayette was a good man, with a wife, and he was certain that George had a family of his own as well. The attraction would never be reciprocated, not to mention sodomy was a capital crime here in the colonies. 

Lafayette fell into a dreamless sleep, with too much on his mind and not enough answers.

~~~~~

_ September 1777 _

Over the course of the next two months, Lafayette and Washington grew extremely close. Lafayette almost always stayed with Washington in his private quarters whenever they set up camp, they spent hours talking about everything from politics to books to freedom as they lay in their (separate) beds at night. The soldiers began to think of them as father and son, because of their age gap. They thought it was darling how the soldiers saw them that way, even though the both of them were harboring other sorts of feelings, more romantic ones, for each other. They played along, their seemingly expressed father-son dynamic proving a useful masquerade for their unspoken devotion.

Lafayette constantly begged Washington to let him fight, but Washington wouldn’t have it. “I want you to go back to France in one piece,” he’d say. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I couldn’t lose you,” he’d say. Being young and easily flattered, Lafayette would feel warmth spread throughout his chest when Washington said that, but it was always chased by feelings of guilt. As his affection for Washington grew, the more incessant the guilt felt. He couldn’t be in love with a man; it was not what God had intended, surely. Those thoughts full of self-doubt and pain raced in Lafayette’s mind as he tried to sleep, with the man causing those thoughts mere feet away from him.

Little did Lafayette know that Washington was feeling similar, more intense feelings of uncertainty. He felt insecure about his fondness for the young,  _ awfully  _ young Frenchman. Whenever Lafayette asked to fight, Washington would just sigh and shake his head no; not bearing to say yes for fear that Lafayette could get injured or die. He was reminded of the promise he had made to himself back when they first met, when he vowed to protect Lafayette from harm. He dared not linger on his unnatural thoughts for too long, but whenever he saw Lafayette’s smiles or heard his infectious laughter, the thoughts came back. He tried to push those dreams to the back of his head, tried to forget they existed, and found solace in his work or in a glass of whiskey. 

It was finally in September that Washington finally complied to Lafayette’s perpetual pleas to let him fight. When he agreed, Lafayette was so overjoyed he had the biggest grin plastered on his face as he flung his arms around Washington and kissed him on both cheeks. Lafayette hadn’t been able to sleep that night he was so pleased. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, and hoped he would be able to make his general glad he let him go into battle.

The next day, on the outskirts of Philadelphia near the river Brandywine, Cornwallis began to attack the American forces guarding the fords along the river. Washington had insisted that Lafayette join him in the central division, but in the midst of battle they got separated, as Washington left to retrieve more troops. Lafayette, however, got shot in the leg and fell off his horse; even though he wanted to continue the fight when Washington returned, he was losing blood and was forced to have his leg bandaged. Despite Lafayette’s desire to fight, he was sent to a hospital in Bethlehem. 

Lafayette laid in bed, leg throbbing and bleeding out into the bedsheets. As he waited for a doctor to come by, the pain in his heart grew; he should have listened to Washington before, and given up his attempts to persuade the general into letting him fight. What if he never saw his general again? What if he died here? Did Washington even know he was injured?

Moments later, Washington burst into the room, flanked by a surgeon who immediately started to set up his instruments. Washington tossed aside his jacket and sat on the bed next to Lafayette and moved a ginger curl that had gone askew behind Lafayette’s ear. The normally emotionless, stoic Washington looked as if he was going to cry; his icy blue eyes were already filling with tears.

“I shouldn’t have let you go fight, oh God, I didn’t think this would happen to you,” Washington said, voice almost cracking. He took Lafayette’s hand tightly in his own and squeezed it; the formerly soft hands had roughened over the months.

“Oh, general, I’ll be fine. I’ll heal,” Lafayette said with a chuckle.

“Washington, sir,” the surgeon interrupted. “I must start soon, or he may get an infection.”

“Oh, of course, let me move,” Washington said, getting off of the bed and pulling up a chair next to the head of the bed. The surgeon peeled off the boot, Lafayette wincing at the pain. He cut the cloth of Lafayette’s breeches around the bullet hole away so he could work easier, exposing the gaping wounds. “Treat him like he is my-” Washington almost said lover, but restrained, and said, “like he is my son.”

The doctor nodded in understanding. “This will hurt. I’m going to remove the bullet and sew you back up. Be still,” the surgeon said as he took his instruments and poked them around the bullet hole, trying to fish it out. Lafayette groaned in misery, the probing inside the open wound too much for him to tolerate. Washington couldn’t bear to see Lafayette like this, in pain and torture. It was only his twentieth birthday days ago, and the thought of such a brave, loyal young man and friend dying in his prime was revolting to Washington. His hand grabbed Lafayette’s again, and once it was in his grasp, Lafayette squeezed it so tightly his knuckles whitened. 

“Is it almost out?” Lafayette asked the surgeon, whimpering. His vision was blurry from tears and he felt faint from the loss of blood. His breaths were coming in shallower than before, and it took all he had not to scream out in pain.

For the briefest of moments, Washington felt Lafayette’s hand go limp in his, and his heart skipped a beat in fear; the boy he had sworn to protect would die in his hand and at his hand. Washington wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he knew that he had caused the death of this boy with his whole life ahead of him.

“Almost. ‘Twas not too deep, so ‘tis much easier,” the surgeon replied. Lafayette exhaled in what sounded like content, head falling back against the pillow. After a few more moments of poking around, the musket ball was extracted from the wound, and Lafayette sighed, glad for the worst part to be finally over. The surgeon cleaned the area of the excess blood, and threaded a needle so he could sew up the hole. The stitching was no more than a mere sting, and was over quickly. 

When he was done cleaning Lafayette up again, the surgeon stood and said, “Six weeks. I need you to heal for six weeks, and then you may go back to your detail. No walking excessively for a week; let the stitches set.”

“Yes, _monsieur,”_ Lafayette said. “Thank you for everything.” The surgeon tipped his hat to Lafayette and Washington, and exited the room.

“Oh, Lafayette. I did not mean for this to happen to you,” Washington said, wiping Lafayette’s sweat away from his brow.

“I shouldn't've insisted so much. I should’ve realized this would have happened,” Lafayette said. 

“But you asked, and you looked so happy. You were so persistent and sincere, and I couldn’t say no to you,” Washington replied, holding Lafayette’s hand in his gently.

“I’m glad to have helped the cause as much as I could today, _mon général,”_ Lafayette said, letting the “mon” slip from his mouth unnoticed. Whether it was because of the haziness or because it was purposeful, it still held the same meaning in Lafayette’s heart.

Washington’s heart beat faster when he heard that; he had picked up on a bit of French since living with Lafayette. “My Marquis,” Washington cooed, Lafayette’s eyes widening at his words. Lafayette gave him a weak smile, the best he could muster in his pained state. An unsteady moment passed before Lafayette spoke up.

“Do... do you really see me as your son?” Lafayette questioned, uncertainty lacing his words.

“I’d be lying if I said I did,” Washington responded after a short pause.

“Then how, Washington? Be honest,” Lafayette said in a stern tone, one Washington had never heard from him before.

“I,” Washington paused. He knew he would regret it, but he said, “I see you as a most trusted friend and confidante. I think I… I think I love you, or at least I’m starting to love you.”

Lafayette looked at him in awe, utterly speechless. He lifted an arm, the action almost painful for him, and touched Washington’s cheek. Lafayette’s fingertips were soft, and felt like silk against his weathered skin. He said, _“Mon général,_ I thought you’d never say.”

Washington leaned down over the boy and kissed his cherry-red lips softly. Lafayette reciprocated with a small pucker of his lips, and the two men pulled apart from each other after a few seconds. 

“No. I should not have done that, oh God. I can’t- I’m sorry Washington,” Lafayette said, tears stinging the rims of his eyes. “I love you, ever since I saw you at that dinner, but this is just  _ wrong, _ but it feels right. I’m so confused.” Lafayette wiped his eyes with his too-long shirt sleeves, burying his face in his hands.

Washington turned away, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks as well. He felt the same; his confusion about the situation burning through his mind. He wanted to kiss Lafayette again so bad, kiss his tears away and make him feel better, but he too knew it was wrong. He put his head in his hands, propping his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know what I just did, either. I, I just couldn’t live if I didn’t tell you.”

“I wish I could feel delighted that this finally happened, but I can’t,” Lafayette cried. “God, I’m so confused. I love you, but I just  _ can’t.” _ The tears slipped down his cheeks quicker, and Washington wanted to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but refrained.

Washington’s silent tears fell onto the dusty wood floor, the drops splattering on the floor in a scattered pattern. After a few moments, Washington spoke.

“I thought I was going to lose you. When I heard, my heart broke. I was so sure you were going to die when I swore to protect you,” Washington said soberly, looking to Lafayette to see his reaction.

Lafayette turned to Washington, removing his hands from his face and revealing his doe-like hazel eyes, red-rimmed and watery. “Really?’

“Yes, really,” Washington said, getting out of the chair and kneeling on the ground beside Lafayette’s face. “I was so worried.”

“I didn’t know you cared for me so much, _mon général,”_ Lafayette sniffled. “I thought you were just acting this way to make me feel welcome or to expose me.”

“Never. I am as sincere in my feelings as you were when you said you would fight for this country,” Washington said, happy tears filling his eyes as he cracked a half-smile. When he said that, Lafayette’s face was full of bliss, and the tears that left his eyes were not ones of sadness, but of joy.

The two leaned in again, kissing each other with enthusiasm, not barred by doubt any longer. They pulled away after a minute, Lafayette resting his forehead against Washington’s and smiling. He touched their noses together playfully, making the older man grin. The little Frenchman was still so young and naïve, and full of youthfulness while Washington was an old man, well past Lafayette’s twenty years. But his affection and his  _ love _ for Lafayette made him feel young again; the excitement and rush of being around someone he loved was like when he was Lafayette’s age.

Washington could only stay a short while before having to return to the camps. When he left, he kissed Lafayette’s nose and pulled the blanket over him. Lafayette smiled up at him with so much devotion, Washington couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with even more love for him. He assured Lafayette that he would write him as often as possible, and that he couldn’t wait to see him at the end of six weeks. Lafayette blew him a kiss, Washington grinning and catching it, pressing it to his heart before opening the door and leaving.

~~~~~

_ November 1777 _

When Lafayette rode into the camps on the outskirts of Philadelphia in the Worcester Township, he saw Washington and his aide-de-camp Hamilton waiting for him, and Lafayette urged his horse to go faster. He arrived in front of the two men and a soldier took the reins of the horse as Lafayette jumped off of it. After unmounting, Lafayette quickly walked over to Washington and stood on his toes and kissed Washington on both cheeks. Hamilton looked at the pair with surprise, and even let out an amused little huff. Washington tried to hide his blush and fidgeted, Lafayette finding the general’s body language very different from how he usually composed himself. 

_ “Mon général,  _ I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable,” Lafayette said with a small smile. 

“‘Tis alright, my marquis. You've met Alexander Hamilton, my aide-de-camp, right?” Washington asked, gesturing to Hamilton. 

“We did shortly, yes,” Lafayette said as he and Hamilton shook hands. 

“You're the reason his excellency won't send me into battle,” Hamilton teased. “You must convince him otherwise.”

_ “Général!  _ You simply must send him in. Hamilton must be a strong fighter,” Lafayette said in disbelief. 

“I don't need any more of you getting shot in the leg or elsewhere,” Washington chuckled. “Hamilton is practically my son, and I don’t need any more of men getting more injured.”

“I am  _ not _ your son,” Alexander spat, not doing anything to hide his contempt towards the nickname. Lafayette observed Alexander, with his lightly tanned and freckled skin, stunning violet eyes, and mess of ginger curls, swept back into a queue. 

“You may leave now, Alexander. I must catch up with Lafayette,” Washington said, laying a hand on Alexander’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, your excellency,” Alexander nodded curtly and began to walk away. Washington swore he could hear the boy grumble “my marquis” under his breath, and smiled. 

“Come with me, Gilbert,” Washington said, leading the way to his tents. Lafayette’s ears perked up when he heard his name, and followed Washington to his (would be theirs, most likely) tent, Washington holding the canvas flap up for him to pass through. 

“Oh, George… I sorely missed you. I was so bored just laying in bed all day,” Lafayette said as he sat in one of the chairs surrounding a table in the center of the tent. 

Washington sat down next to him and placed a steady hand on Lafayette’s knee, feeling it tense under his touch. “I missed you too, my marquis,” he said, looking intently at the boy.

“May an injured soldier trouble his general for a kiss to ease his pain?” Lafayette asked, batting his long lashes at Washington and his irresistible cherry-red lips parted just so.

Washington grinned, and couldn’t resist Lafayette’s pleading gaze. He leaned in and kissed his lips lightly, Lafayette smiling through the kiss. Lafayette moved his hands from his sides to Washington’s neck to bring him closer. Washington kissed him back with a little more force, his own hands traveling up Lafayette’s thighs to his waist and holding onto him tightly. Lafayette moved to sit on Washington’s lap but Washington pulled away, leaving the boy dumbfounded. 

“I'm sorry for being too forward, George, I just… I was overcome,” Lafayette blushed and apologized as he sat back in his chair. 

“No, don't apologize, darling. It's just that…” his eyes flitted to the tent flap “Others may see,” Washington stammered. “I'm sorry, dear.”

Lafayette felt a wave of relief wash over him, thankful it wasn't something wrong that he had done wrong. “I understand, mon général. I guess I'll just have to be a little more patient,” Lafayette winked at him, making Washington flush a soft pink. 

“There is something I have to tell you,Gilbert,” Washington said as he ran his hands under Lafayette’s lapels and smoothed down the front of his military coat. 

“What is it, George?” Lafayette asked, his eyebrow cocking in interest, a little smirk playing across his lips. 

“You are to go to Jersey, and have command of some troops to fight against Cornwallis,” Washington said, breaking into a grin.

Lafayette gasped and brought a hand to his cheek in surprise. “Is this true? I-I’m so honoured!” 

Washington just smiled at the boy’s giddiness and said, “Yes, this is truth. The letter from General Greene came today.”

“Oh, _mon général…_ Thank you,” Lafayette said as he threw his arms around the older man, taking him by surprise. Washington hugged him back and buried his face in Lafayette’s hair, the wispy curls tickling his nose.

“You leave in two weeks. Following that, we will meet you to march into Valley Forge where we will spend the winter,” Washington said as they broke apart.

“You will not be fighting with me?” Lafayette said forlornly, backing away from their embrace so that he rested in Washington’s stronger arms. 

“Sadly, I cannot. But I trust you will triumph, my marquis. I have faith in you,” Washington said as he moved to press a kiss on Lafayette’s forehead.

Later that night, Lafayette found Hamilton and Laurens sitting outside their tent, Hamilton sulking as he looked disgustedly at his mug of ale. Annoyance didn’t fit the boy’s pretty face, and he could tell Laurens was displeased at Hamilton’s current disposition.

“I want to lead. He gives you a command, but not me. All I want to do is fight, and he does not let me,” Hamilton said glumly.

“I know you do, Hammy. He’ll give it to you sometime,” Laurens said in attempts to sympathize.

“I’m sorry, Alexander. I wish he would give you command, too. You are a worthy leader,” Lafayette said.

Hamilton stood and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know why he coddles me so. I’m not fragile, I’m not breakable.”

“Just ask more, maybe he’ll-” Laurens got cut off.

“That’s just it, John! No matter how much I ask, no matter how much I bother him, he says no. He says he doesn’t want to lose his boy,” Hamilton said in anger, spitting out the last part of his sentence in disgust. Lafayette could tell the boy was drunk.

“He will give you one in time. Just prove yourself to him, Alexander,” Lafayette said, laying a hand lightly on his shoulder. Hamilton turned to him with a frown on his face, tears crystallizing his violet eyes.

“But will it really? I’m asking but one thing of him, and he will not give it to me,” Hamilton said.

“It will. Let the time come,” Lafayette assured him. Hamilton straightened up, and wiped aside his tears. 

“I hope so,” was all Hamilton said.

Two weeks later, after a most depressing departure, General Greene and Lafayette crossed the Delaware and marched to Jersey. On the 24th, after some scouting and spying done personally by Lafayette, their small troops whipped the British and Hessian armies into defeat. After their glory, they met with Washington, and began the march to Valley Forge, Lafayette riding at Washington’s side the whole way.

~~~~~

_ December 1777 _

Valley Forge was, in a word, cold. Unbearably cold. Soldiers were getting frostbite left and right, and their uniforms (if you could call them that) were in tatters. If the men had shoes, they were worn thin. Many more men wore rags around their feet to try and protect them from the snow, but proved fruitless in their efforts. Lafayette was thankful he had his coat to keep him warm, and even gave away a spare one of his to a soldier’s pregnant wife, who was shivering and freezing. The look on her face when she received it was overjoyed, and she flung her arms around Lafayette and kissed his cheeks dozens of times in thanks. 

Washington often noted how darling Lafayette looked when he was cold. His previously snow-white nose and cheeks were flushed berry pink. His lips were chapped and felt ticklish when they kissed. He always had his gangly arms wrapped around his lanky form to try and keep warm. Once, Washington had wrapped his larger coat around Lafayette, the mass of fabric drowning Lafayette’s small form and making him seem even more little. Lafayette held the coat closely and swayed in his spot, the far too long sleeves flapping in the wind. 

In the house where the higher-ranking generals were boarding at, Lafayette stayed in the same room as Washington (like he always did) and the routine went the same each night. The two men, out of respect and decency for each other, would always turn their backs or leave the room when the other changed, not wanting to take a peek just yet. Every night after they both were settled, Lafayette would go to Washington and lay a light kiss on his lips before going to bed. Washington, in turn, laid a kiss on Lafayette's forehead and made sure Lafayette had enough blankets to keep his shivering body warm before he lay down in his bed and fell asleep. 

It was one bitterly and frigidly cold night in December, though, when things started to change. It was one of the coldest nights that winter thus far, and even under the heavy blankets, Lafayette could not seem to get warm. He lay in his bed for a few moments, contemplating whether or not to ask Washington if he could join him in his bed or to just curl into a tighter ball and try and conserve body heat. He chose the former, and got out of his bed, hissing at the cold floor beneath his feet. He tapped Washington's shoulder, and after a few seconds, Washington's eyes fluttered open. 

“Is something the matter, Gilbert?” Washington asked, concerned for the young man. 

_ “Oui; _ ‘tis very cold. Could I stay with you?” Lafayette said with hesitation in his voice. 

Washington knew that if there were light right now, Lafayette's big hazel eyes would be pleading silently and he would be biting that bottom lip as he always did. He couldn't say no, he couldn't resist Lafayette's charm and coyness. So without giving it a second thought, Washington quickly pulled back the covers and said, “You may.”

Lafayette scrambled into the bed, cozying up to Washington immediately. Washington smiled and pulled the heavy blanket back over the two of them. They were pressed chest to chest, with Washington's left arm wrapped fully around Lafayette and holding him in a vice. 

Inside Washington's embrace, Lafayette felt warm and secure; his arms and chest were like an impenetrable shield. Washington's arm around Lafayette clutched the fabric of Lafayette's sleeping shift, the soft off-white linen bunched in his hand. Lafayette's slim legs worked their way around Washington's and tangled them together, Lafayette's cold legs sending goosebumps up Washington's spine. 

After a bit, Lafayette and Washington drifted back to sleep; Washington hadn't slept this well since before the war, back in Mount Vernon. He enjoyed having someone to hold and curl up to at night, and the young marquis was perfect for that. 

Lafayette woke to an empty bed the next morning, pawing around for Washington. He sat up lazily and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his vision. Once he could see (somewhat) clearly, he saw Washington bringing him a cup of coffee. 

“For you. You looked awfully tired, and I didn't want to wake you just yet. But this'll help you wake up,” Washington said as he sat on the bed and handed Lafayette the teacup. 

He raised it to his lips, and took a sip of the dark, bitter drink. He slightly grimaced, but there was a sweet aftertaste. When Washington saw the brief contortion of Lafayette's face, he smiled. It reminded him of the time Lafayette first tried whiskey, at that dinner months ago. 

The days passed. Everyday there was a survey of the troops, observing the soldiers, and some days (if it was not too cold) the soldiers would practice. Lafayette almost never left Washington's side, and the two men could always be found with each other. Although both men curbed their physicality with each other in public, it didn't stop Lafayette from hanging onto Washington like a dog and from kissing his cheeks in front of the soldiers. One thing Washington could always count on, though, was going to bed and finding Lafayette already there, half-asleep. Washington would just chuckle and scoot Lafayette over a little bit so he could lay down beside the younger man. Lafayette would feel Washington in the bed and cozy up to him, feeling the heat of his skin through their sleeping shifts. The nightly routine was the same, and every night, Lafayette tried to get closer to Washington. He would brush his fingers across Washington’s leg, or lay his hands on Washington’s chest and move them across it. Washington would blush and try to hide his face in the soft candlelight, and Lafayette would look at him with a hunger in his eyes. 

Lafayette wanted to be closer to the general so badly, wanted to feel his hands in his hair, wanted to feel his lips on his skin. He figured his little touches and glances wouldn’t work on Washington, and decided to be upfront with him one night. As they lay in bed, the candle slowly burning beside them on the table, Lafayette spoke up.

“George?” 

“Yes, Gilbert?” Washington asked, concerned.

With a shaky voice, Lafayette said, “I want to be closer to you.”

“We already sleep in the same bed, and I hold you close to me every night.”

Lafayette bit his lip in embarrassment and exhaled sharply. His eyes shut for a brief moment before opening them with his innate coyness. “I want to be  _ closer.” _

Washington’s eyes widened at that  _ “closer” _ and he knew exactly what Lafayette meant. He looked into Lafayette’s hazel eyes that were silently pleading for more, and like before, he couldn’t say no. He leaned in and kissed Lafayette, slowly moving his lips against the boy’s pliant ones. Lafayette reciprocated, and wrapped his arms and curled a leg around Washington to bring him closer to his body. Washington cemented a hand on Lafayette’s hip and held him in place against him. They continued to kiss as Washington worked Lafayette underneath his body so that the boy was beneath him. Washington kissed down Lafayette’s neck, making him shiver, and pulled the boy’s sleeping shift off so he could kiss down his chest. Lafayette sighed as he felt the older man’s lips tickle his chest with kisses, and felt himself become more aroused as the kisses traveled lower; when he directed his kisses upwards, Washington faintly heard Lafayette whine in discontent. 

“Do you really want this?” Washington asked, running a soothing hand up and down Lafayette’s thigh. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself and that he would hurt the boy. He wanted to be sure that Lafayette was okay with it and that he wanted to continue.

“Yes, _mon général…_ Please…” Lafayette begged, keening into Washington’s hand. He couldn’t resist the calloused hands of the general on his skin, and desperately wanted to feel Washington inside of him and all over him.

Washington drug his hands down Lafayette’s sides and moved one to Lafayette’s abdomen. He felt Lafayette’s muscles tense underneath him, and he wrapped a hand around Lafayette’s cock. The boy gasped at the squeeze of Washington’s hand on him. Washington began to slowly stroke him, and Lafayette’s breathing slowed as he was trying to compose himself. Lafayette started to rock his hips up into Washington’s hand to try and get more friction, and he held the bedsheets in his hand loosely, ready to grip them tighter if he needed to. Washington admired Lafayette, squirming,  _ wanting _ beneath him. Lafayette’s ginger hair had a soft golden hue to it from the candlelight, and in the dimness, he could still see the little freckles on the boy’s nose and cheeks. Washington leaned down and kissed Lafayette’s lips that were swollen from being bit and continued to stroke him as their mouths moved together.

_“Mon général…_ I want you inside me,” Lafayette said, breaking apart from Washington, his French accent becoming even more apparent. It stirred something low in Washington’s stomach, the airiness of his voice combined with the accent was almost enough for Washington to take him right there. 

“I, uh, I’ve never,” Washington stammered, hoping Lafayette wouldn’t see the blush creeping on his cheeks.

“Me too, it’s okay,” Lafayette said, his hand going to stroke Washington’s cheek. Washington ducked his head and leaned into Lafayette’s hand before pausing to think. 

“I’ve heard some of the soldiers talk before, hold on,” Washington said, as he got off the bed and went to a bag he had in his trunk. There was some oil in a bottle in there, and he fished it out, returning to the bed. He sat between Lafayette’s parted legs, the boy propped up against the pillows and looking at Washington with his hungry, hazel eyes. Washington took some of the oil and poured it onto his fingers and moved them tentatively to Lafayette’s entrance. He looked into Lafayette’s eyes, silently asking for his consent, and Lafayette nodded his head once and relaxed himself.

Washington pressed in one finger gingerly, watching Lafayette’s face slightly grimace at the intrusion. He promptly removed his finger, not wanting to cause Lafayette any harm.

“My marquis… are you alright?”

_ “Oui… _ I’ll be alright, keep going,” Lafayette replied breathily. Washington pushed his finger in again and started to slide it in and out slowly, watching for any sign of pain on Lafayette's face. He tried to keep a slow, steady pace, not wanting to be too rough with the boy. Lafayette sighed and brought a hand to his hair and gripped his ginger-coloured roots tightly. He fluttered his eyes shut and let out a silent moan; Washington could see his mouth drop open in the candlelight and brace himself against the headboard. In a shaky voice, Lafayette said, “More, more…”

Washington obliged, and slid in a second finger slowly. This time, Lafayette let out a more audible moan, his breath hitching in his throat; it was right after that moan when Lafayette clamped a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. Lafayette steadied himself, and let Washington pump his fingers in and out of him again. Lafayette’s breathing quickened, and he bit his palm to hold back a moan that would have definitely been too loud.

“Are you still…” Washington trailed off.

_ “Oui, oui, mon général… _ I want more,  _ s’il vous plaît…” _ Lafayette begged Washington. Hearing Lafayette’s begging, especially in that airy French, made Washington harden and put a small grin on his face. He angled his fingers deeper, and Lafayette let out a muffled groan from behind his hand. Washington smirked and scissored his fingers inside the boy. 

“Th-thereee… There,” Lafayette moaned when he felt Washington brush past  _ that _ spot inside of him. Washington gave it to him more, stimulating the spot that made Lafayette’s pleasure increase. Lafayette began to grind down onto Washington’s fingers to try and gain more friction, but was met with resistance.

“No, my marquis… I don’t want you hurting yourself,” Washington said.

“But, _mon général,_ I like it rougher,” Lafayette said with an underlying growl in his voice. Washington looked at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything or do anything. In a quick action, he pressed in a third finger, this one making Lafayette cry out loudly before catching himself and biting his lip instead. He began to pant heavily and grip the sheets between his fingers in a vice. Washington still pumped in his three fingers slowly, pace not quickening or differing.

“George, I want you inside me now,” Lafayette demanded, voice wrecked, eyes blown so wide Washington could barely see the hazel irises, only ebony pupils. 

“You… You’re sure?” Washington asked, removing his fingers and hearing a small whimper from the boy below him and moving to pull off his sleeping shirt.

Lafayette watched as Washington pulled off his clothes. He had never seen him bare before, and Washington looked absolutely stunning. He reached out and ran a tentative hand over Washington’s chest, eyes watching it trail from his collarbone all the way down to his abdomen, where his cock was already hard. “Yes,” he said, flitting his eyes back up to Washington’s face, meeting the older man’s icy blue ones.

“A-alright,” Washington said, taking the oil again, slicking himself up, and running his fingers around Lafayette’s entrance for good measure. He positioned himself over Lafayette, one large hand on his hip and the other propping himself up. He slowly, slowly slid into the younger man, the both of them releasing heavy sighs from their lips. Lafayette felt full and and just so  _ close _ to Washington, relishing the feel of him inside of him. Washington leaned his forehead against Lafayette’s, trying to restrain himself and hold back. “Do you want me to move?”

_ “Oui, mon cherie,” _ Lafayette replied.

Washington pulled out and thrust back into him, Lafayette letting out a lengthy moan. To shut him up (as the whole house was hopefully sleeping), Washington kissed Lafayette full on the mouth. Lafayette melted into the kiss, and Washington rocked into him again. He reveled in the tightness of Lafayette around him, and set a slow and steady pace for Lafayette.

Lafayette was taking in every sensation and every feeling of Washington’s body on his; the tight hand on his hips would most likely bruise his soft, porcelain-white skin. Washington’s toned torso was just right, and the way he was looking at him like he held the world in his eyes felt magical. However, the pace was too slow. He wanted, no-  _ needed _ more of the man. He needed it harder and needed it to be rough.

“George, I’m not fragile,” Lafayette chuckled.

“I know, but I don’t think I could control myself if I go too rough. I can’t hurt you, Gilbert…” Washington cooed, kissing Lafayette’s collarbones and shoulders. “Please let me be gentle with you, at least for tonight.”

“But George, I know you just want to let go,” Lafayette said, running a hand up and down the small of Washington’s back.

“I want to be gentle tonight. Please?” Washington begged. “I want to be slow, and I want you to be patient. Can you do that for me? Please?”

Lafayette felt his heartbeat quicken at Washington’s begging. He now, couldn’t resist the way he sounded when he was being so insisting and couldn’t say no to him. 

“I will. Make love to me, _mon_ _ général _ ,” Lafayette said, wrapping his arms around Washington’s neck. Washington smiled and blushed, and continued his slow, gentle pace. He rocked his hips against Lafayette, who in turn began to meet his thrusts. Washington angled his hips and thrust so much deeper than he ever had before, practically burying himself inside Lafayette. They were so closely connected, and as Washington drug out every sensation for himself and Lafayette, he felt himself getting close. Lafayette, too, felt close, and whimpered into Washington’s ear, “I’m so close, George… Please, I need to…”

Washington stuck a hand between their two bellies and began to stroke Lafayette’s cock. In a husky voice, he replied, “Me too… God, you’re just so perfect, my darling.” They began to kiss again, Lafayette holding the nape of Washington’s neck so he could have him bound to his lips.

Only a few thrusts later, they both came, moaning into each other’s mouths and their breaths catching in their throats. The thick, white strands of come streaked their chests and mingled with the already-there sweat. Lafayette’s hand reached up and swept back his sweat-slicked hair off his forehead and did the same for Washington. After a few moments, Washington recollected himself and rolled off of Lafayette and onto the bed beside him. He reached down onto the ground and retrieved his sleeping shift, using it to wipe the sticky come off the both of their chests. Washington took Lafayette in his arms and kissed his neck and shoulders and asked, “Was it too much, Gilbert?”

“It was perfect,” Lafayette turned and said, his breathing still heavy and his voice laced with pleasure. “Was it good for you as well?”

“It was more than anything I’d ever imagined,” Washington said with a grin on his face. After a moment, Washington pressed a gentle kiss to Lafayette’s lips.

“I love you,” Washington said, looking into Lafayette’s hazel eyes that were glazed over with pleasure. 

_ “Je t’aime, mon général,”  _ Lafayette replied with a hazy voice, already sleepy and exhausted. Washington smiled and gave Lafayette one last kiss. Lafayette rested his head against the pillow and his eyes fluttered shut as he curled into Washington’s arms.

The candle beside the bed had almost burnt out by the time the two were asleep.

~~~~~

_ June 1778 _

Months had passed. Lafayette had gained the trust of the natives and they joined in their cause, coming to train with the Continental Army in Valley Forge. In May, Lafayette had even escaped capture from the British after scouting them in Philadelphia. Washington had thrown his arms around him and held him tightly when he had returned to the camps, not letting him go. The other soldiers had never seen Washington behave like this, so overcome with emotion. That night, Washington had held Lafayette close to him as they slept, whispering that he was afraid he had lost him and that he was afraid he was never going to see him again. 

But now, everyone was seeing Washington lash out. In front of all the soldiers, all of the officers, Washington was fuming at Lee, who was looking like a kicked puppy. He called Lee a coward, a traitor, even went as far as to call him a whining bitch, comparing him to his dogs. Lee had left with his dogs at his feet, scorned and ashamed for his actions, not bothering to say goodbyes to anyone. Lafayette, overtaxed from the terrible heat and the restless battle, went to sit under a tree and rest. Although it had been sweltering earlier that day, the temperature had dropped significantly, and a chill set over the camp. Washington passed by Lafayette, who was shivering under the tree. He rushed over and quickly swept off his cloak, sitting down next to him and wrapping it around the two of them.

Feeling the muscular frame next to him, Lafayette opened his resting eyes and looked at Washington, who was adjusting the mantle around the two of them. He grinned at the older man, who had the appearance of a mother hen, fussing and clucking. “You looked cold and lonely, Gilbert. I wanted to rectify that,” Washington said quietly as he pulled Lafayette’s small form closer to him.

“Thank you for your company, then,” Lafayette blushed.

“I-I’m sorry you had to see me like that earlier, my dear,” Washington whispered as Lafayette laid his head inside the crook of Washington’s neck. “I’m usually more composed, but Lee just..”

“You had every reason to act that way,  _ mon général _ . He was out of line, and had no right to justify his actions.”

“It’s just that I try to appear cool and collected for the troops, to show that I can keep my head and that I can lead these men.”

“Well, now they’ll know better than to cross you.”

“I don’t want my men to think I’m governed by emotions.”

“You aren’t. You are a strong man, you are the bravest out of all of us here.”

“I know, but what will they think of me?”

“They will think you dealt with a coward in the only way fit. I, personally, can’t believe he would act in such a way. He should have listened to your orders.”

“Not everyone is as passionate and dedicated as you,Gilbert. I can wish, but every man has his own mind.”

A beat passed.

“On the bright side, you fought most valiantly today. We may have lost some, but we defeated them.”

Washington blushed.

“Thank you for your kind words, my marquis. It’s nice to have you here.”

“Anything for _ mon général,” _ Lafayette said as he pressed a kiss to Washington’s shoulder, over his coat. 

Washington placed a hand on Lafayette’s thigh, squeezing it before grasping for Lafayette’s hand, holding it as the two men rested silently under the tree. Some of the other soldiers had taken note of the interactions between the two men, scribbling the intimate, loving encounter into their journals. Washington watched Lafayette eventually fall asleep, his crimson lips slightly parted and letting out little, contented sighs. From the light of the campfires around them, Washington could count every little freckle the boy had gained on his lightly sunburned skin from spending too much time outdoors. And those long, doe lashes rested on his high cheekbones, fluttering every so often. He glanced around them, and laid a small kiss to Lafayette’s crown before resting his head on top of Lafayette’s before dozing off.

~~~~~

_ January 1779 _

“Must you go?” Washington asked, panting, trying to regain himself as he rolled off of Lafayette.

“Sadly, I must. I need to go back to my king and ask him to send you more money. This army needs all the help it can get, if I must be blunt,” Lafayette replied, wiping the sweat off of his brow.

“I will miss you. I hate it when you leave, even if it’s just for a short while. Please write to me, my love,” Washington pleaded, his ice blue eyes looking somber.

“I love it when you beg, George,” Lafayette chuckled as he turned and kissed Washington’s lips. “But I will write, I can assure you that. I will miss you terribly.”

“I wish you could stay. You’re such a strong fighter. I wish more of my men had the enthusiasm you do,” Washington said, wrapping his arm around Lafayette and carding a hand through his ginger curls.

“Oh, George. I’ll be back before you know it. Find some other pretty soldier to warm your bed this winter. I’m sure Alexander would be willing,” Lafayette teased him, Washington cracking a small smile.

“That boy would do anything to have a battalion,” Washington played along. “I just might proposition him.” Lafayette burst out laughing, tears nearly forming from the force of his laughter.

“Funny thing is, he would say yes,” Lafayette snickered, nestling his head against Washington’s chest and running a hand up and down Washington’s bicep. Washington laid a hand on Lafayette’s slim waist and pulled him closer, rubbing his thumb over Lafayette’s sharp hipbone. 

“As amusing as this is, I don’t want to spend my last night with you for a while talking about my aide-de-camp,” Washington said.

“Mmm, all right,” Lafayette replied, hooking a leg around Washington and curling his hand against Washington’s chest. He absentmindedly tweaked Washington’s nipple, making the older man grunt softly and bite his lip. “I’ll have to remember that little trick,” he smirked up at him.

“Please,” Washington said. “God, I’ll miss you, darling. I hope you have a good visit. You must tell your wife how much I appreciate you.”

“Like I'd tell my wife about all the hot winter and summer nights I've spent with you,” Lafayette chuckled. Washington beamed down at him, and pressed another kiss to Lafayette’s forehead before holding him tightly and falling asleep.

The next morning, Lafayette woke to Washington straddling his hips and running his hands all over his chest and sides. 

“George, I'm not complaining, but why on earth are you doing this?” Lafayette asked with amusement. 

“I'm trying to remember your body and the way you feel for when you're gone,” was the response. Lafayette leaned into Washington’s roaming hands and sighed, the callouses of Washington's hands heightening the sensation. He rolled his hips up against Washington’s and heard the man groan. “So eager, aren’t you?”

“I want it once more before I go, please,” Lafayette said, his deep, hazel eyes beseeching Washington and leaving him defenseless to the boy’s need. Washington smiled and slunk down Lafayette’s body, trailing his hands down across his chest, his hipbones, and to his thighs. He reached to the floor and picked up the bottle of oil off the floor. He covered his fingers in it and pressed two against Lafayette’s entrance, hearing a quick gasp from the younger man.

Washington pressed one finger in, hearing Lafayette sigh and let out a deep breath as he pushed it further in. He slowly moved it in and out, and watched as Lafayette’s hands searched for the bed sheets to grip. “A-another please, George…” Lafayette asked airily. 

Not wanting to deny Lafayette anything (he wouldn't be able to anyways- the boy was too sweet to be denied) he gently pushed in a second finger, slightly scissoring them to open him wider. Washington smirked at the hitching in Lafayette's breath; no matter how many times he had and Lafayette had been intimate, Lafayette always reacted like it was his first time- that first night they had lain together in Valley Forge. His fingertips brushed past the sensitive area inside of Lafayette, and he let out a lengthy moan, clenching around Washington's fingers as he rubbed the spot. 

“Do you want another?” Washington asked. 

“No. I want you now,  _ mon général…” _ Lafayette trailed off breathily. Washington looked down on him, his ginger locks spilled all over the pillow and his pouty, swollen cherry-red lips parted and letting out little breaths. 

Washington covered his cock in the oil, and eased himself over Lafayette's quivering body. He guided himself towards Lafayette's entrance, and with a short nod from the boy, he pressed in. Lafayette let out a deep moan, and Washington pressed a finger to Lafayette's lips, putting, “Don't want to wake the others. It's still early.”

As Washington slowly thrust into him, Lafayette kept his little sighs and whimpers trapped behind his mouth as he bit his lip. He looked right up into Washington's ice-blue eyes, not taking his eyes off of the older man as he rocked his hips up to meet his thrusts. Lafayette moved his hand between their stomachs to his aching and forgotten cock, stroking himself in time with Washington’s slow thrusts. Washington leaned down and captured Lafayette’s lips in a passionate kiss, his chapped lips tickling the boy’s softer ones. 

“G-George…” Lafayette whimpered, squirming underneath Washington’s weight.

“Are you close, darling?”

“Yes, God… George, I need to…”

Washington adjusted them so that he was on his knees, lifting up Lafayette’s hips. Lafayette yelped at the change of position, surprised at the boldness the usually calm and gentle man was currently displaying. Washington began to rock into Lafayette at an extremely slow pace, the sensations being dragged out and heightened on every thrust. Lafayette brought his hand to his mouth to bite down on his palm so his whines wouldn’t wake the others. It only took a few more rocks of Washington’s hips before Lafayette was crying out and coming, clenching tightly around Washington’s cock. The added pressure around him made Washington come as well, panting and huffing as he struggled to keep himself on his knees. Slowly, he laid Lafayette down onto the bed and pulled out of him, rolling to his side and taking Lafayette into his arms.

“I’m really going to miss you,” Lafayette said, burying his head into Washington’s shoulder. “I will. I’m not going to be gone for long, but it’s still going to be hard not waking up next to you or being near you.”

“It will be hard for me too, Gilbert. I won’t forget your face,” Washington ran the back of his hand across Lafayette’s cheek, “your eyes,” he ran his fingertip under Lafayette’s eye, “your body,” he ran his hand across the planes of Lafayette’s chest. “I will miss every part of you.”

Lafayette gave Washington a sad smile, and as a small tear fell from his eye, he held onto the older man tighter, not wanting to let go of him. Washington wrapped his arms around Lafayette and brought the boy’s lanky form close to him. He kissed the top of his head and said, “You’ll be back with me before long. Let’s just have these few more hours with each other.”

“I love you,  _ mon général,” _ Lafayette whispered into Washington’s chest.

“I love you, my marquis,” Washington whispered back, and kissed his lips.

When Lafayette left later that morning, Washington rode with him part of the way. While they were riding, Washington saw a tall daisy on the side of the road, and stopped his horse to pick it. He quickly jumped off his horse and plucked the flower, putting it between his teeth to jump back on his horse. He pulled the daisy from his teeth and leaned over to put it alongside the feathery plumes of his tricorn. “Reminded me of you,” Washington smiled at him, making the boy blush a deep scarlet. They continued to ride on, and when they were far enough from everyone, they shared a quick kiss before Washington had to ride back.

~~~~~

_ April 1780 _

Lafayette was elated; his voyage back to America was almost over, and it would be days before he saw Washington again. This past year had been hard for both men, the extended absence from each other had been heavy on their hearts and minds. Often, Lafayette would wake, hoping to see his lover’s arms around him, but would instead wake alone in his bed. He had been happy, however, to see his wife Adrienne, whom he had sorely missed. She had given birth to a son just this past winter, and he had named him after his general. Money, equipment, and troops were close behind as well, thanks to his efforts to convince the king and queen. 

Washington had been fighting back against the British, wishing his men would stay and fight. The money from the Congress was running out, and this past winter, the economy had collapsed. He prayed every night and every morning that the French rulers would take pity on them and send him money, troops, anything. Lafayette had been gone for over a year, and when he had received a letter saying he would return soon with aid, he had been overjoyed. 

There was one thing that had occurred while Lafayette was away that had been a bit detrimental to Washington. One night, as he lie asleep in bed beside his wife Martha, he had suddenly awoken after a dream that his beloved marquis’ boat had gone down at sea; he had shot up and cried out Lafayette's name in fear. Martha had woken up and helped calm him down, holding his hand and smoothing his hair out. She had gotten near him and whispered, “I know you love that boy. I know you’ve been this way since we were married, George.” Washington had tried to deny it, but Martha had assured him she didn’t care about him any less and that she would never tell a single soul. He felt uneasy but assured that his wife knew, but trusted her enough to know that she would keep to her word.

When Washington had received word that Lafayette had returned to America, Martha was glad to finally see happiness return to her husband’s eyes. She told him, with a wink and a smile, that she would give them all the space and time they needed to so they could “catch up with each other.”

Lafayette arrived in Boston Harbor on the twenty-eighth, and amidst all of the cheering people waiting for his boat, he only wanted to see Washington. He had received a letter saying that he wouldn’t be able to meet him until the next month on the tenth. The waiting period would only be brief, but Lafayette yearned to just be  _ near  _ his general. He didn’t care if they spoke, (although his voice was very steady and calming) he just wanted to be close, to make up for the year they spent apart.

~~~~~

_ May 1780 _

_ “Mon général!”  _

Washington saw his young, fresh-faced marquis quickly walk towards him, a huge smile on his face. The older man felt tears leak from his eyes at the sight of the boy politely pushing people out of the way to get to Washington. Lafayette pulled off his hat and flung his arms around Washington, holding him tightly. People around them said, “It’s like his son has returned home,” and “That boy is truly like his son.” Washington just held onto Lafayette tighter, and lightly kissed the top of his head.

“Lafayette, we have much to go over. You have left us for so long,” Washington said as the two broke apart. It was clear to see that the boy matured over the year he was gone, but he still retained some of his mother youthful qualities.Though he was 23, he still had his long lashes, glittering eyes, and lively smile. 

“Yes, we do. Oh, there’s so much to tell you,  _ général,” _ Lafayette said happily as they walked to a private room of the headquarters. The backs of their hands brushed as they walked closely together, and Lafayette blushed as he looked up at Washington and smiled. He ducked his head back down to the ground in slight embarrassment because  _ he was a grown man, for Christ’s sake, not a blushing maiden _ . 

Washington opened the door to an empty room for him, and Lafayette walked in, setting his hat down on a small table. The older man closed the door, and Lafayette heard the click of it being locked. They turned to face each other, and after a few seconds, they greeted each other properly. Lafayette stood on his toes and placed his hands on the lapels of Washington’s coat to tug him down to kiss him. Washington laid his hands on Lafayette’s hips and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss, taking the younger man by surprise. Their lips moved against each other in tandem, and once they pulled away from each other, they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Hello, my marquis,” Washington said with a smile, bringing his hand underneath Lafayette’s chin and stroking the boy’s reddening cheek with his thumb.

_ “Bonjour, mon général,” _ Lafayette replied, unable to keep his own smile contained. “I’ve been waiting to do that since I left you.” 

“Me too. God, I’ve missed you so much,” Washington said, holding Lafayette to him tighter. Lafayette buried his face into Washington’s chest, inhaling his musky scent.

“Why don’t we sit? I’m eager to hear the news you have brought with you from Paris,” Washington said as he guided the two of them to the table.

“Of course!” Lafayette said, sitting in the chair Washington had pulled out for him. “You’ll be glad to hear that my king and queen are willing to bring you troops, money, ships, and weapons. They support you and your cause wholly, and they will be arriving shortly with these supplies.”

“You must write to your king and queen and tell them how grateful I am for their support, and that with their help, we will win this war,” Washington said, thankful for the efforts made to help them.

“I shall, do not worry. How have things been for your army?” Lafayette inquired.

“It has been most unfortunate. We have had some harsh losses, and though this winter was not as severe as the last, we ran out of money. It was hard, but with help from your country, I think it will boost the men’s morale,” Washington said hopefully.

“It certainly will. You  _ will _ win this war, George,” Lafayette vowed, placing a comforting hand on Washington’s knee. Washington smiled at him, and felt the love in his chest swell for Lafayette; the tugs on his heart were similar to the ones he felt when he first met the boy. However, the person in front of him was no boy; he was a man. He was a man who was commanding troops, helping the war, and being one of the most dedicated soldiers Washington had ever seen. Like earlier, he felt tears begin to slip from his eyes, and before long, they were falling down his cheeks. 

_ “Mon général, _ please don’t cry,” Lafayette fussed, reaching for his pockets to find a handkerchief for Washington. Once he pulled one out, he got up and sat on Washington’s lap as he dried the tears from the older man’s cheeks. Lafayette frowned as the tears began to fall; he didn’t like to see his stoic and collected general hurting in this way. “Why are you crying, darling?”

“I just love you so, so much. You’re so youthful and full of determination,” Washington said, voice slightly cracking. Lafayette felt tears sting his eyes as well, and gave the older man a melancholy smile. “It makes me feel…  Hopeful for the future and that good will come in time.”

“I love you too, George. And good will come soon, I assure you. There’s no need to fret, my dear,” Lafayette cooed. He pressed another kiss to Washington’s lips, a shorter one, and pressed their foreheads together. Washington wrapped his arms around Lafayette’s waist and they sat there, in silence. Both men were thankful for the locked door, so nobody would interrupt their tender moment, and they spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s presence.

A week later, Lafayette was asked to appear before Congress. Though he was nervous about what they were going to speak to him about, he put on a confident mask and stood before them. They honored him as a meritorious soldier, and honored him for his service for their country. Lafayette had accepted their honors, pride growing in his chest. In the back of his mind, Lafayette knew that Washington must have written to Congress to grant him these titles to show his appreciation even further for him. Sometimes, Lafayette couldn’t believe the man’s devotion for him, and how he would do anything to express his gratitude. That night, Washington had laid him down on his bed and worshipped his body, going sweet and slow and romantic like he always did. They laid in bed after that as the night fell heavier over them, holding each other, and it was the first time in a year and a half both men had felt at home and at peace.

~~~~~

_ August 1780 _

Lafayette held the letter in his hands, staring in shock at the ink on the page. He scanned the letter again, trying to comprehend what he had just read. His lower lip quivered, and he dropped the paper to the desk. He put his hand over his mouth and let out a distressed exhale. Washington looked up from his own desk to see Lafayette crying and got up and went to him.

“What is it, Gilbert?” Washington asked in concern. 

“The Baron de Kalb, the man I came to America with… He’s dead. Battle at Camden,” Lafayette replied, looking to Washington with a tear slipping down his cheek.

“Oh, Gilbert, I… I don't know what to say,” Washington said, his voice shocked. He took Lafayette into his arms held the younger man close to his chest, letting the boy sniffle into the lapels of his jacket. 

“I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve known this would’ve happened. It’s war. People die all the time in war,” Lafayette said as he wiped his cheeks off with the handkerchief Washington had just handed him.

“Don’t talk like that. If you died in battle, I don’t think I would’ve been able to forgive myself. It’s okay to feel sorrow,” Washington said somberly.

“I know, but I shouldn’t be so surprised. This is a war, after all.”

Washington let out a sigh. “Will you be alright?”

“Yes. I was just… Overcome, I guess. I’ll be fine,” Lafayette said, his sniffles starting to go away. He broke away from Washington to lay on his cot, staring at the flap of the tent absentmindedly, life seeming to be gone from his eyes. Washington returned to his work, but he couldn’t seem to stay on task. His mind kept drifting to the grieving boy across the tent from him, how he was silent and calm. Washington knew this initial sadness wouldn’t last long, but he couldn’t bear to see his poor marquis in pain like this. Such a young, usually vivacious man shouldn’t have to be subject to this kind of suffering and torment. 

Then, Washington thought something that he couldn’t believe his own mind conjured up. What would Lafayette do when he dies? Washington was old, and he knew he would die well before Lafayette if they both survived the war. The thought of Lafayette wailing and crying and falling into the deepest agony and heartache hurt him, and he felt a weight settle over his heart. But what he wasn’t prepared to think was what if Lafayette died before he? To see his youth snatched away, to see the most courageous of men of die killed him. Washington knew he would never be able to love again, and that he wouldn’t be able to face each new day with the same attitude. How could he live without this boy, this boy who made him hopeful and happy and caring? 

He felt a single, hot tear run down his cheek like fire and fall onto the parchment in his hand.

~~~~~

_ October 1781 _

The war was over. After nearly three months of cornering, harassing, and attacking Cornwallis’ troops in Yorktown, and a week of siege-style fighting, the Americans had won. Hamilton had received command of troops, after Lafayette had finally swayed Washington into giving them to him. Lafayette had many soldiers under his command as well, and they had all fought valiantly and with passion. Cornwallis hadn’t seen it coming; French ships and troops and American troops had his entire army surrounded and were firing and firing upon them with all they had. On that fateful day, October 19, they had seen one of the Redcoat soldiers, no more than a boy, waving a white scrap of fabric to signify the British surrender. The soldiers had ceased their fire, and after Washington had told them to draw back, they led the officer who had accompanied the soldier behind the lines. Surrenders were agreed upon, and after the British troops left Yorktown in shame, their flags furled up and their muskets reversed. The soldiers hung their heads, looking at the muddy ground as they walked single file. 

But the American and French troops were joyous. When he had come back to the camps, he had ran to Hamilton and Laurens and they embraced, crying out their happiness and joy over the end of the war. They were all beaming and laughing, relishing in the afterglow of a victorious battle. Hamilton and Laurens retired to their tent (to do God knows what- Lafayette had heard them once or twice), and Lafayette set out to find Washington. He found the older man in their tent, sitting at his desk drinking a glass of whiskey by the candlelight. When Lafayette opened the tent flap, Washington’s eyes had darted to meet Lafayette’s, and he smiled. 

Lafayette made sure to fasten the tent flaps closed, and removed his hat to embrace Washington, kissing him passionately in the middle of the tent. Washington unbuttoned Lafayette’s coat and tossed it over a chair, and with practiced skill, unknotted his cravat, letting the fabric fall to the floor. He guided Lafayette to his (their) bed, pressing his back into it so that Lafayette could look up at him with those hazel orbs that sparkled in the candlelight. Washington unbuttoned Lafayette’s vest, button by button, and he shrugged it to the floor. Lafayette’s blouse hung open, revealing the porcelain skin of his chest and one of his rosy nipples. Lafayette almost shyly pulled off his shirt and dropped it to the ground before moving his hands to Washington’s half-unbuttoned vest and popping the buttons from their holdings. Washington, not taking his eyes off Lafayette, ripped off his vest and shirt, pressing his bare chest against Lafayette’s. They kissed again, and Washington moved his large, calloused hands to the waistband of Lafayette’s breeches.

“No,  _ mon général, _ I’ll do it myself,” Lafayette said as he sat up and deftly undid his pants, shucking them off hurriedly with his stockings while Washington did the same. Once they were both bare, Washington reached into his trunk for the olive oil and poured some onto his fingers. Lafayette slightly spread his legs, and let out an extended sigh as he felt two of Washington’s fingers slide into him with ease. Washington watched as the younger man’s face fell into pleasure, blissed out and satisfied as he pumped his fingers leisurely. He didn’t bother to go quickly; they had all the time in the world that night. Lafayette’s hands grabbed for the pillow under his head, his white torso illuminated golden under the candlelight. Washington searched for that spot inside of Lafayette that always made him fall apart under him. It wasn’t long before he found it, and Lafayette’s breath hitched and he shuddered, his cherry-red lips parted and swollen from being bitten. 

“There, God,  _ mon général,  _ please, please,” Lafayette begged. “I need you inside me, now,  _ oh _ !” Washington had pushed in a third finger, unexpected to Lafayette. His legs were shaking, and he felt so  _ stretched _ by his broad fingers, and the callouses were so  _ rough _ . Washington smirked, and Lafayette gave him an amused little smile, but then Washington did a “come hither” movement with his fingers, and Lafayette moaned unashamedly loud. Washington glided his fingers in and out of Lafayette with ease, met with little resistance from the boy. 

“Do you want me inside you now?” Washington asked.

“ _ Fffuck, yes, please, _ ” Lafayette drawled out. Washington’s eyes widened in surprise at the boy’s words. In all the times they had made love or fucked, never had he heard him say “fuck.” It was new hearing it, and it was making him a little more aroused than it should have been.

Washington took some of the oil and slicked up his cock and Lafayette’s entrance with it, and he positioned himself over Lafayette, ready to enter him. Lafayette placed a hand on Washington’s hip and another on his shoulder and looked deep into his ice-blue eyes, silently giving him consent. Washington slowly pushed in and felt Lafayette tighten around him and take him in fully. Once he was completely buried inside of him, Lafayette said, “M-move,  _ fuck, _ please move.”

Not denying him, Washington rippled his hips against Lafayette, and felt Lafayette rock back against him. They had been doing this together, for so long, that they knew each other’s rhythms and techniques so well. Each time had been perfect, and tonight, it meant so much more. As they rocked against each other, their movements fluid and sure, they looked into each other’s eyes and let out breathy moans and sighs. It was unspoken, but they both knew this time was special. Unlike Laurens and Hamilton were probably doing, having a heated, exciting victory romp, Washington and Lafayette were having this reassuring, loving, and comforting affair. 

“Wait,” Lafayette said, placing a hand in the center of Washington’s chest. Washington suddenly stopped. Was he doing something wrong? Did he hurt him? What had he done?

“Did I do something, oh, God-” Washington stammered.

“I want to ride you,” Lafayette said, voice unfaltering. Washington could tell Lafayette had been planning and wanting this for a very long time. In an instant, he flipped them so that Washington was laying flat on his back and Lafayette straddling his legs. Lafayette placed both of his hands flat on Washington’s torso as Washington moved his hands to encompass Lafayette’s small waist. Slowly, Lafayette slunk down onto Washington’s cock, and back up again. The next time he went down, Washington snapped his hips up and Lafayette’s elbows buckled and he fell on top of Washington’s chest, crying out Washington’s name.

They set up a new rhythm, this one a bit faster, but still with the same meaning as before. Washington was hitting Lafayette’s prostate on every thrust, and Lafayette was moaning and his breath was hitching and his face was contorted into one of absolute pleasure. Washington could feel Lafayette tightening around his cock, periodically clenching. The added tightness only added to Washington’s pleasure. He wrapped a hand around Lafayette’s cock, and stroked him quickly, trying to bring the boy off. It was only a couple more strokes and rocks against each other until they were both coming, crying out each other’s names and panting. Lafayette had gone lax against Washington, and his whole body was covering his. They slowly breathed into each other’s shoulders, and Washington placed his hands on Lafayette’s lower back and stroked the smooth muscles there. After they had both calmed down enough and Washington had pulled out, they were laying beside each other in their warm embrace under the thin coverlet. Washington leaned against Lafayette’s ear and whispered something that made Lafayette smile widely.

“We won.”


	2. Mount Vernon, June 1784

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette's only visit to Mount Vernon in June 1784.

_ June 1784 _

 

Washington paced the floor of the parlor. He and Lafayette had made plans months ago for Lafayette to return to America and stay at Mount Vernon with him for a month, and just yesterday, a courier brought a letter saying Lafayette would be there the next day. He was very nervous; they hasn't seen each other in so long, and Washington was afraid Lafayette had changed. Martha had assured him that Lafayette would still be the same boy he fell in love with years ago, and that if Lafayette was truly honourable, he would love him too. 

 

Martha set down her embroidery and got up to peer through the windows. She drew back the curtain, and slightly squinted. 

 

“George, dear, round up the servants,” Martha turned to face him, beaming, “he's here.”

 

Washington grinned, and he called for the house servants to come and gather outside the manor. They all lined up, and the carriage stopped a few yards away from them. Washington's palms became sweaty, and he wiped them on the side of his breeches. He saw the door to the carriage swing open, and a long, toned leg step from the inside to the graveled path. Lafayette's body came into view when he stepped from behind the door and into Washington’s eyeline. Their eyes met, and it was like watching waves crash on rocks; the harsh, blue of the sea meeting the stoic, brown earth. Lafayette was wearing his uniform, the trim lines accenting his no longer awkward frame. When he pulled his plumed tricorn off, it revealed a powdered white wig, which Lafayette ran a hand across to flatten any stray hairs. They quickly approached each other, and placing their hands on the others biceps, leaned towards each other and kissed each other's cheeks twice. 

 

They pulled apart, hands still on their biceps, and looked into each other's eyes and smiled. Though time had changed Lafayette's previously boyish and innocent features, he was still every bit as beautiful. Over Washington's shoulder, Lafayette saw Martha wink at him slyly, with a small smirk on her face. It was no lie to Lafayette that she knew (and supported) his and Washington's relationship, and he had always appreciated the kind woman for that. Giving a small squeeze to Washington's arm, Lafayette broke away from him to meet Martha. He took her hand and kissed the back of it lightly. “Mademoiselle Washington,” he said with a smile, making her smile.

 

“Monsieur Lafayette. I’ve heard so much about you,” Martha grinned back at him. “Our home is welcome to you for your stay.”

 

“Thank you, Mademoiselle Washington. It is an honour to be back in the states. I have waited to return for some time now,” Lafayette replied as the two started to walk into the manor, followed closely by Washington and the servants who had helped to bring in the bags.

 

“Tea?” Martha asked as she directed Lafayette into the sitting room, Washington following closely behind. They entered the nicely-lit room, furnished with paintings and plushy chairs.

 

“Yes, please,” Lafayette said as he sat in one of the chairs. Martha sat across from him on the couch, and picked up the embroidery she had laid there earlier and Washington sat next to Lafayette in a larger armchair. A servant brought him a cup of tea, and Lafayette took a sip, the lemony tea soothing his throat.

 

“How was your journey, Gilbert?” Washington asked.

 

“Oh, definitely long, but well worth it. It feels splendid to be back in my second home, and especially with one of my… closest friends,” Lafayette replied. “I’d like to thank you for opening your home to me, Mrs. Washington. It is most generous of you.”

 

“Oh, Lafayette. It’s just Martha. And you are welcome to stay in our home whenever you’re home here in the states,” Martha replied with a kind smile. “George would not stop talking about your visit.”

 

“Martha, you embarrass me,” George teased her. “I am pleased you came back, and I hope you would enjoy your stay here.”

 

“Although I would love to stay and chat, I must take my leave. There is dinner that needs attending to,” Martha said abruptly, rising from the couch and leaving the room. Lafayette barely caught Martha sending Washington a sly wink before closing and locking the door on the two of them. He and Washington shot each other a look, and stood and embraced. They touched their lips in a gentle kiss, and Washington placed his large hands on Lafayette’s slim hips. After a few moments, Washington said with a giddy smile and said, “Hello.”

 

“Hello, mon general,” Lafayette said sweetly. “It’s nice to finally be in your arms again,” he added, stroking the soft material of Washington’s coat. 

 

“It’s nice to have you in my arms, my marquis,” Washington replied, his hand going under Lafayette's chin. His icy blue eyes did not seem stern then, to Lafayette, they were loving and caring. Washington has always known to talk with his eyes since words sometimes failed him. 

 

“Oh, George. Do you say that to every marquis you meet?” Lafayette asked, his lips pulling into a smile. 

 

“Only the most beautiful ones.”

 

“Oh, George. I'm going to blush,” Lafayette teased. 

 

There was a pause as Washington moved his hand from under Lafayette's chin to cup his cheek. Lafayette leaned into Washington's hand slightly, missing the callouses and rough skin of his hands that had explored his body and made him feel like nothing else in the world mattered. “You were away for far too long, darling,” Washington said forlornly, rubbing his thumb over Lafayette's high cheekbones. 

 

“God, I know. I missed you so, George. I wish I never had to leave your embrace ever again.”

 

“Shall we take a walk? In all the years I've known you, you've never come to Mount Vernon.”

 

“Of course. Show me everything,” Lafayette replied, looking wistfully at Washington. 

 

They took a long walk that afternoon, reminiscing and catching up after the years they had been apart. Washington showed Lafayette all the places of Mount Vernon that were hidden and tucked away, only known by him. Washington wanted to be truly alone with Lafayette, where he knew they wouldn’t be disturbed. 

 

Lafayette stood on the root of a tree, holding onto one of the lowest branches and smiling; though he was grown, he reminded Washington of a child, and how youthful he used to be. Washington walked over to him, and wrapped his arms around Lafayette’s middle, holding onto the back of his jacket. Washington wrapped Lafayette’s legs around his waist, taking the younger man by surprise. He pressed him against the tree trunk, and despite the hard bark digging into his spine, Lafayette felt comfortable in Washington’s arms. They pressed their lips together in a heady, passionate kiss.

 

“I want to take you back here and make love to you under the stars, my marquis,” Washington said lowly, kissing under Lafayette’s jaw.

 

“I’d certainly not object to that, mon general,” Lafayette replied breathily, letting out a small groan when he felt Washington’s lips over his pulse.

 

“Good. Tomorrow, we’ll relive our military days and bring a dinner and some blankets; sleep under the stars,” Washington promised. 

 

“I can barely wait, darling. I’ve missed the way your body has been on mine,” Lafayette said, slightly grinding against Washington to tease him. Washington bit his lip and shook his head.

 

“You’re just the same little tease you were all those years ago,” Washington smirked. “We should be heading back, but you’re making me crazed.”

 

“I am?” Lafayette asked in faux-innocence as he ground against him again.

 

“Ngh, Lafayette, I want you, but I don’t want our first time in years to be against a tree,” Washington said, his tone obvious that he was trying to hold back.

 

“I can wait, dear. Tonight?” Lafayette asked as Washington set him down and brushed off his jacket.

 

“Tonight,” Washington replied, taking the younger man’s hand.

 

After an amazing dinner prepared by Martha, she excused herself, and walked over to where the two men were sitting. She placed a caring hand on their shoulders and leaned down and whispered, “You have the master bedroom all to yourselves.” It didn’t take much for the two to stand and walk quickly to the bedroom.

 

Once they were inside the room, buttons were being undone and clothing tossed to the side. Quickly, Washington broke away and went to light the candle hanging from the ceiling for some light as Lafayette kicked off his shoes and pulled his breeches and stockings off in one go. He laid on the bed as he watched Washington remove the rest of his clothes as well, and when Washington climbed over him, the bed dipped greatly. Washington covered Lafayette’s body with his and kissed him again, this time moving down the young man’s chest, lightly nipping and biting his sides. He travelled back up Lafayette’s chest, jacking him and feeling Lafayette squirm under his ministrations.

 

“Please, pl- s’il vous plaît, George,” Lafayette whined, breath hitching. It had been so long since Washington’s hands were on him and he wasn’t sure if he would last. “I know you want to take your time, but I need you, and I need you now.”

 

George stopped at Lafayette’s collarbone, and looked at Lafayette, who looked completely helpless in the soft candlelight. He was reminded of their first night together on that cold, Valley Forge night. “But, Gilbert… I can’t bear to hurt you.”

 

Lafayette grabbed the nape of Washington’s neck and held him directly above his face. “Just let go, George. I need this,” he said, taking Washington’s lower lip between his teeth and biting it. That action made Washington even more impossibly aroused, and took Lafayette’s hands and pinned them down above him as he bit Lafayette’s side, right on the curve of a rib, making the young man cry out. Washington smirked against his creamy white skin, and grabbed the bottle of oil from the ground and poured some onto his fingers to slick up his cock. As Lafayette watched Washington stroke himself a few times, he remembered how  _ large _ he was, and he braced himself as Washington positioned himself over him and lined up with Lafayette’s entrance.

 

“You’re sure, dear?” Washington asked, momentarily loosening his hold on Lafayette’s wrists. 

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Lafayette said, cherry lips in that ever-present pout and batting his long lashes. Washington gently thrust into Lafayette, the tight heat surrounding him becoming so pleasurable he had to stop when he was fully inside Lafayette to adjust. 

 

“George, are you alright?” Lafayette asked worriedly.

 

“It’s just been awhile… Ngh, are you alright?”

 

“Oui… Please, George, dear, go on,” Lafayette insisted.

 

“Anything for my marquis,” Washington said as he pulled out and thrust back in again at the angle that always made Lafayette cry out. Unlike how he was usually slower and reserved, Washington was driving into Lafayette harshly, fucking him into the mattress and being merciless. Why hadn’t he done this before? Lafayette’s moans and grunts were music to his ears, and since he wasn’t stretched beforehand, he was unbearably tight around Washington’s cock. 

 

Lafayette was falling apart under Washington, and he kept trying to get more friction, more pleasurable pain by grinding down and meeting Washington’s harsh thrusts. With his hands pinned above his head, Lafayette couldn’t pull Washington tighter to him or stroke himself, and he settled for keening into Washington’s chest, his untouched cock rubbing between their stomachs. When he keened, he felt Washington hit  _ that _ spot inside of him roughly, and his sense were so overwhelmed he couldn’t even make a sound. His breathing became more jagged and rapid, and Washington increased his thrusts, looking right into Lafayette’s begging eyes with his steely, blue-eyed stare with a hunger and intensity driven by lust.

 

“I’m so, so close, George, please,” Lafayette said, arching his back again as Washington drove into his most sensitive spot.

 

“Like you said, ugh, Gilbert,” Washington said between thrusts before leaning next to the younger man’s ear, “Let go.”

 

Washington’s growl and one more thrust inside of him and Lafayette coming intensely, painting their stomachs. The clench around his cock made Washington come as well, deep inside of Lafayette. He released Lafayette’s wrists, and immediately, Lafayette wrapped them around Washington, holding him as they both panted and came down from their highs.

 

When Washington pulled out, Lafayette whimpered, feeling empty without Washington inside of him. Washington grabbed a handkerchief from the low table beside the bed and wiped them off before guiding Lafayette underneath the sheets. He held the younger man to his chest and felt him curl up to him. Lafayette buried his face in Washington’s shoulder, and into his skin, he murmured sleepily, “I love you, my general.”

 

The older man pressed a kiss to Lafayette’s forehead and replied, “I love you too, my marquis.”

 

The routine went the same for the next two weeks. They wouldn’t always be intimate, but after some nights at dinner or in the sitting room or too many drinks, they would find themselves falling into the other’s arms and pressed against each other’s lips. One night, Washington found himself drunker than Lafayette after dinner, and had sloppily kissed Lafayette on the lips in front of Martha, who had just smiled to herself, looking pleased as she pulled her needle up through her needlepoint. 

 

A few times, Washington and Lafayette had gone on horse rides, riding through the huge expanse of land Washington had. Washington took him to his distillery, and as Lafayette knocked back a glass of whiskey and smirked, Washington felt a tug at his heart, remembering the first night he met Lafayette. Lafayette didn’t grimace or choke this time, and the promise Washington had made him that he’d be drinking whiskey neat made the younger man feel in some way, accomplished. Lafayette had also had some pleasant morning strolls with Martha, talking about George and about their personal lives and pasts. He came to enjoy the woman’s company, and easily welcomed her into his life.

 

The best night they spent together was the one spent under the stars. He and Washington had rode out late afternoon just as the sun was setting, and ate a dinner by the fire, sitting on the heavy blankets and looking up at the stars. And just like Washington promised, he had laid Lafayette down and made slow and tender love to him, taking his time but not teasing. He was giving everything he had to Lafayette, and Lafayette was drinking in the pleasure Washington was dishing. The stars sparkled just as brightly as Lafayette’s coffee-coloured eyes, and his lips fell open and he moaned out Washington’s name softly as he came. 

 

Sadly, Lafayette’s visit came to a close. It was the last night, and throughout the house, everyone could feel the sadness. Martha had cooked yet another wonderful meal for dinner that night, and the conversation had turned nostalgic, as it almost always had. It had gotten so late into the night that Martha had turned in and gone to bed. 

 

“Do you remember…” Washington started as he took a sip of whiskey. 

 

“Oh, God. Nothing good ever culminates when you say that phrase,” Lafayette teased the older man. 

 

“Stop, I'm serious! Do you remember that time Alexander started talking in his sleep, grumbling about being called Hammy?” Washington asked. 

 

“Oh, I do remember that. It was right after I first arrived, and all the aides and I had to share a smaller tent one night. He got pretty loud about it, too,” Lafayette chuckled, the memory almost fresh in his mind. 

 

“Wow. All these memories, they happened so long ago, but they seem so close,” Washington smiled at Lafayette, leaning his face on one hand. 

 

“I know. Sometimes I wish we could go back and live them all again. We were so carefree and passionate and driven. You definitely still are,” Lafayette said to Washington, inching his fingertips towards Washington's. 

 

Washington took Lafayette's hand in his and looked at it fondly before letting out an amused little huff. “I'm an old man, Gilbert. I don't know how I do it anymore,” Washington said.

 

“You're not old to me.”

 

“You flatter me far too much for your own good,” Washington chuckled. “But I'd be lying if I said you didn't make me feel young again.”

 

“Do I really do that?” Lafayette asked in surprise with a small smile. 

 

“You always have,” Washington said, squeezing Lafayette's hand. Lafayette smiled to himself and moved a stray hair behind his ear. 

 

“You know what I've always wanted to do?” Lafayette asked, his coffee-brown eyes looking upon Washington lovingly. 

 

“What is it, Gilbert? Anything your heart desires, within reason, of course.”

 

“I've always wanted to waltz with you.”

 

“Come with me, then,” Washington said, standing and taking Lafayette's hand as he led him out of the dining room and into the New Room. 

 

It was spacious, the largest room in the house. Washington left Lafayette in the center of the ballroom as he quickly lit some of the candles to give the room a soft light. He returned to Lafayette and said, “I don't care what you say, I'm leading this dance, Gilbert.”

 

“I'm not complaining. The fantasy didn't involve me leading, anyways,” Gilbert said with a cheeky smile as he placed a hand on Washington's chest and clasped the other in Washington's hand. Without hesitation, Washington put his unclasped hand onto Lafayette's hip. His grip was everything Lafayette had imagined, strong and reassuring. 

 

Washington started the dance, pressing Lafayette closer than he would than with a normal partner. Even with the lack of music and light, the moment was still romantic and just how Lafayette pictured it. Washington, looking slightly down on him, his rippling chest muscles that could be felt every time he took a deep breath in. In the soft light, Washington's icy blue eyes seemed tender, like he wasn't a battle-hardened general, but like a considerate lover, with only eyes for his beloved. All Lafayette could focus on was the large hands Washington had on his body in a more intimate way than ever before and the adoring gaze he was giving him. 

 

After the dance was over, Washington stopped them in the center of the room. He took Lafayette's face in his hands, cupping his cheeks in his large palms, and brought Lafayette's lips to his. Slowly, they moved their lips against each other and the kiss became more passionate. Lafayette did something he hadn't done much, only a few times; he ran his tongue along Washington's lower lip and slipped it inside. Their tongues slid across each other in a slow, sensuous way, and Washington pulled Lafayette tighter to him to deepen the kiss. Under the older man’s ministrations was Lafayette completely helpless and wanting. 

 

“Please, George. Don't hurt me like this, I need you tonight,” Lafayette said breathlessly as Washington moved down his neck. 

 

“Then you shall have me,” Washington said, breaking away and pulling Lafayette's chin to face him. Lafayette was a sight, his pupils blown wide from arousal, his cheeks flushed from the wine, and his crimson lips shiny and swollen from being kissed. 

 

“Please,” Lafayette begged, his hands tightening on Washington's lapels as he looked up at him hungrily. Washington held out his hand for Lafayette, who took it immediately. He was whisked up the stairs and to the bedchamber he had been given for his stay. Washington pushed off the younger man's jacket and forced the buttons out of the buttonholes on his vest. He tore off the cravat and Lafayette raised his arms so Washington could remove his shirt. He was pushed back onto the bed in a slightly rough manner as Washington divested himself of his own clothing. They both removed their shoes, breeches, and stockings quickly, and soon both men were completely bare in front of each other. 

 

Washington crawled on top of Lafayette and ran his large, calloused hands across the younger man's body. Lafayette leaned into his touch and sighed loudly, his whole body fizzling with arousal. Washington moved to slowly jerk Lafayette's cock, his grip on him tight and sure. Lafayette moaned brokenly as he continued, and when Washington pressed two fingers to his entrance firmly, his breathing hitched slightly. 

 

Reaching over Lafayette, Washington grabbed the small bottle of oil inside the drawer. He slicked up his cock and Lafayette's entrance before positioning himself to enter him. Lafayette wrapped his legs around Washington's waist and looked into his eyes, giving him his consent. Washington thrust into him, and both men moaned at the contact. Washington pressed his mouth to Lafayette's in an effort to drown out his moans. Washington continued to rock his hips slowly into Lafayette, relishing in the tight heat of him. Lafayette clenched around Washington when he hit his most sensitive spot, and dug his fingernails into the older man's back. 

 

“Please, George, I'm so close. I can't control this any- oh,  _ God _ , George,” Lafayette moaned out as Washington hit his spot again sharply. 

 

“Me too… Oh, Gilbert, I need this,” George said, his face screwed up in pleasure as he continued his ministrations. It was only a few thrusts later that Lafayette came, streaking their chests with come. Washington felt himself come right after that, letting out a cry and falling lax on top of Lafayette. Both men panted, heaving deep breaths into each other's mouths. Washington rolled off of Lafayette and laid next to him. No words had to be spoken between them; Washington pulled back the covers on the bed and pressed the younger man's back to his chest. 

 

“I love you, mon general,” Lafayette breathed out before drifting off. 

 

“I love you, too, my marquis,” Washington replied, pressing a soft kiss to Lafayette's creamy white shoulder. 

 

Lafayette awoke the next morning to Washington tracing his fingers along the toned muscle of his back. The movements were slow, lazy almost, and careful. Lafayette loved when Washington did this, touch him like he was fine china when he thought he didn't know. Though he voiced his dislike for being treated like he was fragile, there were some times when it was loving and reassuring for him. He let out a displeased exhale through his nose, as he knew this would be the last of his mornings like this with Washington. 

 

“Is something wrong?” Washington's fingers halted on his back. 

 

“I was just remembering this will be our last morning like this,” Lafayette said sadly, turning to face Washington. 

 

“My dear, don't talk like that. You don't know what the future holds,” Washington said in a scolding manner. 

 

“I hope I would be able to see you again,” Lafayette said. “It would make me too sad to never see you again.”

 

“As it would with me. My house is always welcome to you, you know that, right?”

 

“Of course. I will try my hardest to return to you,” Lafayette said, placing a comforting hand on Washington's bicep. “And I know this is completely random, but could I tell you a story?”

 

“Be my guest.”

 

“I danced with the young queen at her wedding when she was married to Louis. Do you know what she did to me?” Lafayette chuckled. 

 

“What did she do?” Washington asked in interest, propping himself up on his arm and leaning in. 

 

“She laughed me off the dance floor. Said I was too country for her highbrow tastes, and that I could not dance,” Lafayette said in amusement. “I was terribly embarrassed.”

 

“Your dancing last night proves her incorrect,” Washington laughed. 

 

“I have gotten better with age, I was barely a teenager at her wedding,” Lafayette laughed along with Washington. 

 

After a few moments, Lafayette leaned into Washington and quickly kissed his lips. He looked up at the older man and spread his hand out across his chest. “Could you make love to me, mon general? Like that night we won the war?”

 

Washington quickly pulled Lafayette on top of him so that he was straddling him, and said, “Of course I will, my marquis.”

 

That morning they had been slow and tender. It was the most romantic of all their liaisons, and Lafayette had looked absolutely stunning above him, his chestnut curls mussed and his pale skin slightly flushed from their activities. Washington's large hands were strong in Lafayette's hips, and helped guide him as he rode him slowly. 

 

When they had come together, Lafayette had fallen breathless and murmuring a string of “I love you” against Washington's neck, brushing his lips across the sensitive skin there as they both came down from their highs. Washington whispered “I love you” back to him as he stroked his back and groaned at the feeling of Lafayette's lips on his skin. 

 

Lafayette left later that morning, a tearful goodbye from the both of them. Washington had kissed both of Lafayette's cheeks and Lafayette did the same; Washington was reminded of the first night they met and how surprised he was when Lafayette had done that to him. As Lafayette stepped into his carriage, he waved a goodbye to him and Martha, calling out, “Au revoir, mon general!”

 

“Goodbye, my marquis!” Washington called back as Lafayette's carriage rolled down the drive. 

 

A hot tear slipped down his face as Washington whispered a barely-audible word that has Martha's heart truly breaking for her husband. 

 

_ “Goodbye.” _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't be prouder of this story. I've been writing it since November 2015, but I've been wanting to write it since about 2013 when I learned of Washington and Lafayette's dynamic. This fic is my pride and joy, and it's brought me nothing but happiness, tears, and emotions while writing it. Upon its completion, I couldn't be happier to say that it's done, and I couldn't be sadder to say it's done. I may write a small continuation of it, but nothing is set in stone yet. Thank you for reading!
> 
> ~Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Mushy letter/spiel to accompany the publication of chapter two.
> 
> ~Hunter


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